


The Hunt

by Scribewraith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18367226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribewraith/pseuds/Scribewraith
Summary: Sam and Dean don't find what they're expecting when they go hunting.





	The Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer's and Author's Notes: I don't own Supernatural, Warner Bros does... but can I have Dean? Beta'd by 0bake  
> This is written for the picfor1000 on lj Year 4 Challenge.  
> Originally posted 5 February 2006

"Are you sure this is the place?" Dean asked. The barn in front of them didn't look _exactly_ like the photo that Sam had shown him: it was a lot older for a start and there weren't any horses out front. 

"Yeah, I think so." Sam pointed towards the roof of the barn, "see there's the Hex sign and over there," pointing at the fence in front of them, "are the hitching posts."

"So you reckon it's going to come tonight then, Sammy?" Dean yelped as Sam thumped him on the arm, hard. 

"Yeah, I do. The most recent reports suggest that it's been coming every third full moon, for three nights, looking for victims. That makes tonight the first night." Dean watched as Sam looked around for a place where they could lie in wait. He resisted the urge to smirk when Sam found the spot that Dean had picked out as soon as they had arrived. "So do you want to go back into to town, or wait here for the next couple of hours?"

"Well, we could play I spy, or we could get coffee. Me, I vote for coffee." Dean swung his arm around Sam's shoulder, grinning as he felt Sam try to shrug him off. He turned back towards the car and the five-minute trudge through the mud that they had just come through.

***

It was dark when they returned later that night. The duffle bag swung behind his shoulder, bulging with weapons, while Sam trod beside him, shotgun out and ready with salted shells. They settled behind the fence on the fallen log that they had spotted on their earlier scout and waited. The moon was about to rise.

Dean was about to start playing I spy to pass the time anyway, when they first heard the chill wind rising. It was an eerie sound, whistling in the branches and Dean would have been more surprised if he wasn't expecting it. As it was the lack of movement in the branches above them was solid enough evidence that this was something out of the ordinary.

Sam had already shouldered his shotgun and was aiming towards the gate on the front of the barn. Dean had taken position across the track back towards town. Between them they should be able to slow down anything that came their way.

Minutes passed and then a mist started to curl out from the barn door. The sound of the wind died away and there was a moment of silence.

Then the apparition appeared out of nowhere, no blinding flash and no other sounds to herald its arrival. It was just suddenly upon them: a figure with glowing eyes and an antlered helmet, riding a large horse, black against the mist. Three dogs circled the feet of the rider and began sniffing the air, barking in their direction.

Sam's gunshots sounded out into the night air, the bullet hitting the rider in the centre of its head. It wasn't a ghost. Dean let off a couple of shots at the dogs before it registered that they weren't dissipating, they were continuing to mill around the legs of the horse and its rider. 

"Oh, shit." Dean yelped. They weren't prepared for this. And they had drawn its attention. Sam was already up and running and as he got to Dean he reached down and pulled him up.

"Come on, Dean, Come on." They had dropped all of their weapons -- none of them would help against these creatures -- and began to run. 

"Damn it, Sammy. I told you it wasn't going to be a ghost." The path in front of them began to glow and then the light flickered out. Slowly two and then four paths emerged from the sudden darkness. "Damn. Follow the path. Isn't that what they always say?" Sam was holding onto Dean's shoulder pulling him along.

"Does it matter which one?" Dean was trying to avoid looking over his shoulder back at the Hunters. They could hear the sounds of animals running and a horn calling others to hunt. 

"It always matters," Sam replied. "If we get back to the car we might be safe, it's iron. Or across a creek; running water stops them right?"

"With all this mud there has got to be a creek somewhere here." The hounds were getting closer: Dean imagined he felt their breath on his neck. "You know the path thing isn't going to help us. Lets try the creek." 

Sam nodded and they veered into the mud. It was getting deeper and harder to move but the hounds had also stopped running and were starting to move slower to search them out. Not being on the paths made it harder for the Hunt too.

Dean found the creek first, falling into it and dragging Sam on top of him. It was waist deep at the centre and it was cold, even in the middle of summer. The hounds had caught up with them, sniffing at the waters edge and then pulling away to return to their master. They listened as the Hunt receded into the distance, watching the shadows move through the forest. Neither of them slept. Huddling against the trunk of an old oak tree, they waited for the dawn to break.

***

The next morning they returned to the barn with a better idea of what they needed to do to destroy the creatures that had spent the night hunting them. They prised the hex off the top of the barn, sprinkling it with salt and burning it with branches from the oak tree that had protected them through the night. They traced runes into the door with the ashes and hammered it closed with iron nails, trapping whatever dwelt within.

As they drove away, Dean turned and asked Sam: "So, do you ever remember Dad mentioning anything about fairies being real? 'Cause I thought it was all demons and shit."

Sam smirked back.


End file.
